


Love be a Vulture Tonight

by deadpai



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Charlie Bradbury & Dean Winchester Friendship, Famous Castiel, Happy Ending, Implied Switching, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mostly Fluff, Older Castiel, Public Blow Jobs, Rimming, Writer Castiel, Writer Dean, Younger Dean, explicit top Dean, fanboy!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 21:00:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3784159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadpai/pseuds/deadpai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean and Castiel meet at a comic book convention, Castiel is the established writer and guest at the con, and Dean is his #1 fan and an aspiring writer himself.  The weekend goes much better than either expected once they meet each other, but will their relationship begin and end at the con?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Someone on tumblr made a prompt akin to Dean and Cas meeting at a con, where one is a guest and the other's a fan, and it inspired this fic which took me roughly a million years to write, as is often the case. Unfortunately since it took me so long to write it I don't remember who posted the initial prompt so I can't credit them. I am a poop. Anyway, I love comic books, and I *love* comic cons, so this is something I had to take on. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy, and thank you to everyone who reads my stuff! I appreciate it so much.
> 
> If you know what the title references imma find you and snuggle you

Dean has never been so excited in his entire life.

That’s no exaggeration; he’s buzzing, skin’s tingling, the leg that’s not being used for the gas and brake pedals is wobbling.  Underneath, he feels ready to burst.

He won’t let it show though, no way.  He has to keep his cool and maintain it, lest he become some gushing, giddy fanboy, which Dean is most certainly _not._   Not even a little bit.

But this is Castiel Novak we’re talking about here.

Practically Dean’s idol, Castiel Novak is a writer of comics and novels alike.   This weekend he’ll be at the local comic book convention, a _nd Dean gets to meet him._

Though Dean is a fan of all of Novak’s works, his most well-known title is his comic book series Fallen Angel.  Dean’s obsessed with it, and has been following it since issue one, which he of course is toting with him to the con to get signed. 

At least, he hopes to get it signed if he doesn’t chicken out.  Dean’s no chicken and he’s definitely not shy, _but this is Castiel Novak we’re talking about here_.  Not only Dean’s favorite writer, he’s Dean’s inspiration.  He’s the reason Dean writes, and with his partner Charlie who is currently buzzing herself next to Dean in the passenger seat, they have their very own comic. 

It’s not a terribly successful series yet, but they do have their clan of devout readers.  So far, it’s just a web comic with a couple published collections on paper back.  Still, Dean is super proud, and enjoying the hell out of living his dream.

And he feels he owes it all to Castiel.

So, in short, this is a very big deal.  

Charlie squeals as they turn into the hotel parking lot, leaning over to pinch Dean’s arm before unbuckling her seatbelt.  Dean chuckles, then swallows hard.  His heart thuds in his chest as the thought of Castiel being in the building flashes through his mind.  When they park, Dean pauses to take a deep breath to suppress his nerves.

If it weren’t bad enough that Castiel is Dean’s hero, there’s also the fact that the man is really, really, _really_ hot.  There isn’t a lot of evidence of this, as photos of Castiel are difficult to find online.  Aside from the standard headshot used in the sleeves of all of Castiel’s books, the only pictures of him are crappy quality ones taken with fans by their cell phones. 

Still, it’s enough for Dean.

Truthfully, Dean is so in love with the man’s writing that he’d probably have a big crush on him anyway, no matter what he looked like.  The fact that he is actually the sexiest man Dean has ever seen is just an incredible, horrible bonus.  Dean has spent many a night thinking not so much of Novak’s writing, but of feeling the stubble along his jaw, raking his fingers through thick, dark hair, looking deep into bold blue eyes, and smashing into broad, bowed lips. 

“Jesus,” Dean grumbles, rattling his head as he tosses his duffle bag on his bed in their hotel room. 

“What?” Charlie asks as she divides the comics they both brought to get signed between them. 

“I’m already getting hard.”

“Dude!  We haven’t even seen the guy yet!”

Dean looks to his friend, true despair sinking his face.  “I _know.”_

*

Castiel has never been filled with such dread in all his life.

Well, that isn’t exactly true.  He was filled with an equal amount of dread the last time he attended a convention. 

He loathes attending these things.  It’s not that he isn’t appreciative of the fans of his work, he loves them.  It’s thanks to them that he can live his dream.  He simply doesn’t feel the need to _meet_ them. 

Though his siblings would say otherwise, Castiel is not anti-social.  He’s just not _good_ at social.  His ineptitude seems to scream much louder when he’s at these events where there is so much focus on him.  Talking to all of them, answering all of their very specific questions; it’s not that he dislikes it, but it is exhausting. 

Even just watching the enormous crowds of people from his little table is exhausting. 

Even just _thinking_ about the crowds of people is exhausting.

He lets out a deep sigh in anticipation for the busy weekend ahead. 

“Don’t start whining already,” Balthazar, his older brother and manager, if you were to struggle to give him a title, says.  “We’ve only just got here.”

Before Castiel can defend himself, his sister Anna chimes in as they step out of the car.  “Yeah, Cas, don’t get grumpy now.  We got a long weekend ahead.”

Castiel harrumphs grumpily anyway.

*

“Oh my God, I can’t wait to meet Anna Milton!” Charlie bounces beside Dean as they make their way to the main floor of the con.  “Do you think she’s taking commissions?”

“I don’t know, but if she is my wallet’s gonna end up sad and empty real quick.”

“Worth it.”

Charlie says it with joking intonation, but it’s true.  It would definitely be worth it to own an original piece by Anna.  She does the art for Castiel’s Fallen Angel series, along with the covers for his novels.  Her style is incredibly unique, each panel a miniature masterpiece.  Since Charlie is an artist herself, she swoons over Anna’s style much more, but Dean can still definitely appreciate it. 

She brings Castiel’s words to life after all, and does it perfectly. 

“So, should we find your future husband now?  Or do you wanna peruse the dealer’s room first?”

Dean ignores the flush of heat that instantly crawls up his neck, “Uh.  Dealer’s room.”

“You sure?  Don’t you wanna be first in line to see him?”

Dean pictures it: being the first to walk up to Castiel Novak’s table.  Castiel looking up at him, smiling, greeting him.  Dean smiling back as he approaches, reaching out to shake that legendary hand, then tripping, falling flat on his face and pissing himself. 

“Definitely not.”

“Wuss.”

*

They’re swarmed immediately.

It’s fan after fan, not many stopping to talk for long, mostly people getting Castiel’s and Anna’s autographs before quickly moving on to the table next to theirs.  Castiel presumes the lot of them will store the signed comics away for ages to accrue value, or throw them up on eBay immediately.

Anna rolls her eyes a bit at it, making a comment about feeling like they’re part of an assembly line, but Castiel doesn’t really mind.  The less people that stop to converse with them, the less Castiel has to struggle to dig up answers to questions about a short story he wrote for a horror magazine nearly twenty years ago, or something equally obscure. 

Balthazar is the much more personable of the three of them, not that anyone really cares to speak with him, but even if they did it wouldn’t matter.  As soon as they set their stuff up on their assigned table, he was gone, eager to flirt with cosplayers and celebrity guests. 

Castiel and his sister on the other hand are flirted _with_.  Quite a few of the guests hit on them as they pass through, Anna being much more receptive to it than Castiel is.  It makes sense though, considering she is hit on by the gender she’s attracted to, unlike Castiel.  Unfortunately, the girls who giggle and gush at him, breasts spilling out of their costumes as they lean over the table entirely unnecessarily, have no idea that he’s gay. 

Castiel blushes at the attention anyway, quite unused to any of this sort.  Or any at all, considering he hardly leaves the house, his sanctuary being in his apartment, hunched over his computer in a robe in the dark, alone in the quiet like a vulture scavenging for words to –

“Uh, hi,”

Broken from his reverie, Castiel blinks as he looks up at the man standing before him.  He sucks in a deep, embarrassingly audible breath.  The man quirks a smile with pouty lips, happy lines spreading from the corners of green, green eyes.  Castiel vaguely recognizes a book being set down on the table in front of him. 

“Hello,” Castiel finally croaks, unable to tear his gaze away from this man’s warm expression. 

The man extends his hand, “I’m a huge fan, been a huge fan for like, ever.  Years.  So, uh, heh,”

“Oh, right,” Castiel says stupidly, nodding as he finally looks down to the freckled hand reaching out to him.  With a jerky motion, Castiel takes it, trying desperately to ignore the warmth of the smooth skin so he can just shake it like a normal person.  “Thank you.”

After their handshake, the man beams and chuckles, looking down shyly at the comic he set on the table, which finally brings Castiel’s attention to it.  He pulls it towards himself, pen hovering over it, mind suddenly blanking at the next part of the procedure. 

“What’s your name?”  Anna asks because she’s always been the smart one, sliding the book over in front of her. 

“Dean,” He answers, and it’s perfect.  Fits perfect to his form, sounds perfect in his voice. 

“Nice to meet you, Dean,” Anna says cheerfully, her world miraculously unrocked by him, as she signs her name on the book’s cover.  She slides it back over in front of Castiel, giving him an expectant look.  Castiel can tell she’s only barely holding back laughter.  He silently thanks God that Balthazar is still elsewhere as he would definitely not have the same decency.   

Castiel, whose world has quite indeed been rocked, manages to sign the book as well.  He hesitates a split second before writing “To: Dean” above his signature, a strange vibration shooting through him as he spells it out. 

These sort of meetings are fictional.  These magical, time-slowing, chance meetings don’t happen in real life.  Or so Castiel thought incorrectly, considering how he’s been internally waxing poetic about every feature of this man since he approached the table.  As many times as Castiel has read and written two people meeting like this, with such intense, instant attraction, he’s still unprepared to experience the real thing. 

He passes the book back to Dean, who says thanks before carefully slipping it back into its plastic cover.  He brings the book up to his chest protectively, nervously biting his lip, eyes lowered.  Next to him, a girl with red hair just as bright as his sister’s that Castiel has not noticed up until this point nudges Dean hard, clearing her throat.

“Uh,” Dean grunts, posture straightening, looking right into Castiel’s eyes.  “I just wanted to say, I’m a writer too – she and I have our own comic, actually,” He gestures to the girl next to him, who grins proudly, “And, well, I wouldn’t be if it weren’t for you.  You’re my favorite writer, and your stories have meant a lot to me.”

He lets out a deep breath he’d obviously been holding, smiling crookedly.  It’s easy to tell Dean doesn’t speak like that very often.  Castiel smiles, feeling almost dizzy with how taken he is by this young man. 

“Thank you, Dean.”  He feels himself say, watching Dean’s smile grow.  “That’s wonderful to hear.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can tell Anna is gaping incredulously at him. 

“Oh!,” Dean’s friend chirps, “Are you doing commissions?  Me n’ Dean have to get some art from you if you are.  Or, at least a print.”

“Yes, I’ve decided to take a few over the weekend.  What would you two like?”  Anna asks pleasantly, then the two begin to work out the details. 

Dean is still hugging the signed issue 1 of Fallen Angel to his chest, attention on Anna and his friend’s conversation.  Castiel, however, is taking what time he has left to trace Dean’s body, eyes dragging around his form to memorize it. 

He looks young, perhaps in his twenties.  Mid-twenties, Castiel thinks.  Much younger than him.  His square jaw is wonderfully contrasted by delicate facial features; long lashes, big, soft lips, freckles.  His hair is in short, messy spikes, a color somewhere between blonde and brunette.  Definitely a unique color, which Castiel has already decided he wouldn’t have any other way. 

Dean chimes in the conversation between his friend Charlie and Anna with short sentences and low chuckles.  Castiel very much likes his voice.  It’s deep and rough, charming no matter what he says.  Castiel would love to feel it whispered onto his skin. 

Heat tingles down his body, jarring him in that he hasn’t felt a sensation akin to this in years.  Castiel wants to keep it, and feel more. 

“Dean,” Castiel blurts before they walk away.  Dean stops short, gaping at him, sort of shocked.  The people next in line look to Dean as well, probably impatiently, but Castiel just has to say _something_ else before he is gone forever.  “It was nice meeting you.  Good luck with your writing.”

Dean continues to gape at him, and Castiel quickly starts to feel like a complete failure.  Was that the wrong thing to say?  It was either that or a marriage proposal.  Castiel’s lips and eyebrows quirk; he can only imagine the weird sort of expression he’s making.

Then, Dean’s face transforms.  He beams with a huge, brilliant smile.  His chest puffs up, and Castiel can see a touch of red coloring the apples of his cheeks. 

“Thanks, Cas,” He says, practically bouncing on his heels.  Castiel’s whole body flushes at the sound of Dean’s voice using his name.  “Really, man, thanks.”

Then, they walk away, and Castiel must fall back down to Earth.

*

“Dude!”

“I know, holy _shit,”_ Dean and Charlie weave through the crowd, huddled together, her arms wrapped tightly around one of Dean’s.  “He was so hot.”

“He was totally into you!”  Charlie shakes him and squeals, “You should’ve gotten his number.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dean rolls his eyes. 

Their pace finally slows as they reach some independent artists’ tables.  They slowly look through portfolios, Dean only barely taking in the images as his mind still swims elsewhere. 

Castiel was incredible.  He was so nice, had such a great smile.  And his voice; smoky and dark.  Dean nearly quivers recalling it.  Castiel Novak talking to him, listening to him, wishing him good luck with his writing – it was insanity, really.  It was only about 10 minutes ago, but Dean can’t believe it happened. 

He was fucking gorgeous too.  No photo online could have prepared him for that.  And the way he looked at Dean with such focus; he’s never been on the other side of a gaze like that.  

Dean’s going to be walking around half-cocked all day.

In the back of his mind, he hopes he runs into Castiel again, somehow. 

*

Day one of the con winds down around 5PM when the crowd starts to dwindle before it closes. 

Castiel finally begins to relax, the line having ended for a while now, but still feeling tense watching the huge crowd.  Luckily it’s much thinner now, not that it really matters.  Castiel’s been in a daze ever since Dean left their table.

“You know, he kind of looked like Michael.”  Anna says, and Castiel jolts in his chair before he turns to her.  She’s been making little comments about Dean here and there since he left, knowing full well the effect he had her brother.  This comment, however, is a new level of alarming.

“You’re right,” Castiel breathes.

How could he not have noticed that before?  Now that Anna’s said it, the resemblance is uncanny.  If Dean wore a cowboy hat, there would be no telling them apart.  That is, if one weren’t fictional.

Michael is one of the characters in Fallen Angel, a bounty hunter who teeters on either side of good-guy and bad-guy.  He’s not the main character, and really doesn’t appear often.  Castiel uses him sparingly, actually.  He likes him too much.  In fact, Michael is probably Castiel’s favorite, not that he’d ever reveal that out loud.

On a blank sheet of paper, Anna begins to sketch him.  He has a strong build, but not overly muscular.  A face with a square jaw, but pretty features.  Even bowed legs, which Castiel noticed Dean had as he walked away.  It really is remarkable how similar they are. 

He watches his sister draw with rapt attention, lower half of his face buried in his hand where it rests, propped up by his elbow.  She wets her paint brush, then sweeps it across the drawing with dusty colors.  She even dots Michael’s face with freckles, and Castiel silently decides that’s a change they’re keeping.

“I _just_ saw a bloke who looks just like him!” Balthazar announces his return, pointing at Anna’s drawing before leaping over to the other side of their table.  He leans over Castiel with his hand braced on the back of his chair.  “I mean really, just like Michael, sans cowboy hat.”

“We’re probably talking about the same guy.  In fact,” Anna slides the finished art in front of Castiel.  “I think you should find him and give this to him.”

“What?”  Castiel croaks, head jerking back. 

“Where’d you see him, Balthazar?”

“Oh, he was outside looking at some movie replica cars or whatever.  Deloreans and whatnot.”  Balthazar waves his hand dismissively, “He and his girlfriend were taking pictures.”

Castiel feels a dagger pierce his chest.  Of course the cute red head was Dean’s girlfriend.  Castiel didn’t even put that together.  He was too set on imaging their life together to consider the possibility that Dean could be taken. 

He sinks in his chair, staring at the drawing.

“You don’t know she’s his girlfriend!,” Anna scolds their brother, “They seemed like just friends to me.”

“What?  Am I missing something?” Balthazar wiggles Castiel’s chair, “Cassie?”

“Bal, get our stuff together.  Cas and I are gonna find Dean.”

Anna pulls Castiel out of his chair and starts to drag him around to the other side of the tables.  Castiel clutches on to the drawing, trying to protest to his sister, but she has none of it. 

Behind them, he hears their brother shout, “Who the fuck is Dean?”

Castiel blushes, hunching down.  He feels like hiding, perhaps jumping out a window.  He doesn’t do things like this, doesn’t pursue people romantically.  If that is even what they’re doing.  What are they doing?

“Anna, stop.”  Castiel grabs his sisters hand, pulling her to a sudden stop.  “What are we doing?”

“We’re just gonna give Dean the art he ordered.  Then maybe talk to him a little bit.”

“He can just pick it up tomorrow like you told him.”

“But then you wouldn’t see him again until tomorrow,” Anna glares at him mischievously, “Now come on, let’s go before we miss him.”

“Anna, wait,” They push past a few people out one of the side doors where the custom cars are parked.  “What am I supposed to say?”

“You’re a writer, Cas!  Use your brilliant words.”

“Brilliant words,” Castiel grumbles, “He’s a fan, Anna.  I feel very creepy doing this.”

Anna stops then, standing right in front of him.  “Castiel, we’re getting old, you and me.  I’m happily married.  I have kids.  I want the same for you.  And if that means creepin’ on a fan, then so be it.”

“Anna-“

“I’ve never seen you look at someone like that before.  I can’t even remember the last time I’ve seen you smile.  Not about something real.  Something other than a drawing or something written.  You know what I mean, right?”

Castiel stares, stunned for a moment, then nods.  Anna does scold him occasionally for his solitary lifestyle, but he thought she had basically accepted it by now.  He had no idea she felt so passionately about it.  He’s endeared by his sister’s concern, but still – this seems rather unorthodox.

“Screw orthodox,” Anna declares, making Castiel realize he mumbled that last part out loud.  “Unorthodox is always more fun anyway.”

She steps out of the way then pats Castiel on the shoulder.  Castiel rolls his eyes then blinks, noticing a very familiar form standing just ahead of him. 

His eyes trace it from top to bottom, like before.  Spiky hair, glistening like honey in the sun.  The upturned collar of a brown leather jacket covers the back of his neck, but that’s alright.  Castiel likes what the leather jacket seems to add to the man’s overall aura.  It seems too big for him, like it belonged to someone else.  It’s old, definitely.  Cracked at the elbows and frayed at the corners.  There’s so much character in the jacket, wrapping around the character it keeps protected inside.  If Anna wanted Castiel to fall in love with someone real, she should have picked someone who seemed less fictional.

Before he knows it, Castiel is standing right behind him, within arm’s reach.  So, he reaches out. 

“Uh,”

Dean whips around, eyes immediately blinking wide upon recognition.  “Wha-hey!,”

“Hello, Dean.”  Castiel flips the drawing around so Dean can see it, then hands it over to him.  “Anna finished the art you commissioned.”

“Oh, shit, thank you, this is awesome.”  Dean’s eyes scan the drawing, green irises no doubt meeting Michael’s painted ones.  He grins wide before looking back up at Castiel, “You brought it all the way out here for me?”

“Well, ah,” Castiel swallows, feeling himself flush.  His brain searches for an excuse, but comes up with nothing.  “Yes.”

“Well that was sweet of you,” Dean says, gaze flicking up and down as he licks his lips.  Castiel is immediately entranced by the movement, wishing it had lasted longer.  “It’s 50 bucks, right?”

“No.” Castiel grunts, and Dean’s head jerks back.  “I mean.  It’s free.”

“What?  No way, man, I couldn’t.”

“Please,” Castiel nods, smiling despite his growing embarrassment.  He is so bad at this.

“Wow, well, thanks.  Charlie’s gonna be so jealous.”  Dean smirks, doing a little victory dance. 

Castiel bites his lip, stifling an outright giggle.  “You’re welcome.  I enjoyed talking with you today.”

“Yeah?  Well we oughta do a little more of that then.”

Dean takes a step closer, directing that smirk at him.  Castiel flushes again, marveling about how the tables have turned between them, or rather, how the lack of a literal table has changed the dynamic between them entirely.  As opposed to Dean, Castiel is the nervous one now, though Dean's warm and inviting manner is soothing Castiel remarkably quickly. 

"Yes, I'd like that."  Castiel smiles, returning Dean's warmth.  Feeling encouraged and suddenly very excited, he takes a step closer.  Their proximity sends a tingle across his skin that seems to urge Castiel to be bolder.  "Are you free tonight?  Would you like to get a drink?"

Dean's lips part and he blinks, long lashes fluttering prettily.  He seems to take a second to process before he regains his flirty confidence, which Castiel, for some reason, finds completely endearing.  "Definitely."

Castiel smiles even wider, so much it almost aches.  Anna was right; he hasn't smiled like this in a very long time. 

*

"He friggin' asked you out?! Are you serious?" Sam, Dean's little brother, asks via speaker-phone.  Charlie, who's holding the phone, shrieks a 'yes' in response.

Dean rolls his eyes and rubs his forehead, feigning frustration to cover up his overwhelming disbelief and excitement.  Castiel Novak totally _did_ friggin' ask him out.  He's been pacing in he and Charlie's hotel room, unable to calm down since it happened. 

"I know, it's crazy."  Dean laughs, finally pausing to perch on the edge of the dresser across from the bed Charlie is sitting on.  "I wish you were here to meet him, Sammy." 

"Yeah man, me too.  If it weren't so close to finals week I'd be there in a heartbeat."

"You really should've seen it, Sam.  Castiel was like, instantly smitten."  Charlie waves a dramatic hand in the air, looking off dreamily.

"Oh yeah?  Well, at least wait 'til after this semester's over before you two get married so I can be there."

Dean snorts, "No one's getting married.  Let's not get carried away.  This is more of a groupie situation than anything else - which I am totally fine with, by the way."

Charlie and Sam make simultaneous irritated groans.  Dean's satisfied with that response.  As long as nobody's getting their hopes up or anything.  Dean definitely isn't, at least, not about anything beyond tonight.  He _knows_ tonight is gonna be awesome. 

But why would Dean expect Castiel Novak, brilliant, successful, genius writer to want anything beyond a simple fling tonight with Dean?  There's no point in even considering something so outlandish.

Sam wishes Dean good luck, and tells them to be safe and have fun for the rest of the weekend.  Dean and Charlie wish Sam the best with his classes, and they end the call.  It really would be perfect if Sam were here this weekend with them, but the kid's gotta study.  He's a pretty damn successful genius himself. 

After the phone call, Dean goes to take a shower while Charlie picks out things for him to wear for his night with Cas.  Dean continues to painstakingly try to keep his cool.  He nearly slips in the shower a few times, but he manages it.

*

Castiel heads to the hotel bar just before 8.  He wants to make sure to get there before Dean so there's no chance he's waiting on him, and also maybe to get in a little liquid courage before he sees Dean again. 

The beautiful image of Dean is clear in his head, but still somehow feels unreal, like a false memory.  Castiel can't wait to see Dean again, to keep him for as long as he can, as long as it takes until the man seems real. 

Castiel shakes his head and chuckles under his breath after the bartender hands him a glass of whiskey.  He hopes to God he can tone down his own weirdness so this night can go at least semi-decent. 

Just as he puts the glass to his lips, he feels a light touch on his arm.

"Gettin' started without me?"

Castiel's already smiling as he turns towards the unsurprisingly charming greeting.  "Apologies, Dean.  How rude of me."  He immediately sets down his glass and flags down the bartender, eyes staying fixed on Dean's.

Dean gathers in close, the tips of his fingers sliding down Castiel's arm, his touch leaving a trail of buzzing heat. 

They face each other, both leaning on their sides against the bar.  Once Dean gets his own glass of whiskey, the pair toast to each other with a laugh before they take their first sip of the evening together.  Conversation starts smoothly after that, and honestly, it would seem Castiel didn't need that liquid courage after all. 

Dean is sweet, and so easy to talk to.  It feels like they're on level playing fields, not at all like Dean is The Fan and Castiel is The Writer.  There's none of that false camaraderie and there's no role Castiel feels he needs to play, no prowess he feels he must exude; he's simply enjoying himself.  And very much enjoying Dean.

"So all I got left are Boba Fett, Padme, and Chewie, then I'll have banged every important Star Wars character.  I try to take on at least one each con.  You're really putting a wedge in that plan, by the way - heh - no pun intended."

Castiel ducks down to laugh, his cheeks hurting from how much of that he's been doing all night.  "I'm so sorry to have hindered your goal, Dean.  Tomorrow I'll be sure to send the first Chewbacca cosplayer I see your way." 

"It's the least you could do."

Dean winks and Castiel flushes.  He feels dizzy despite only barely touching that first glass of whiskey he's been nursing for what he imagines has been a couple hours now.  He hasn't bothered to check the time.  Dean's touches and smiles and jokes and stories make Castiel feel drunk enough all on their own. 

"Dean, may I ask how old you are?"

"I'm the ripe old age of 26."

Castiel rolls his eyes and groans, "If that's ripe I must be rotten."

"Nah, Cas, you're a peach," Dean says, giving him a kiss on the cheek.  He carries on with the fruit analogies, but Castiel doesn't pick up exactly what he says because Dean just put his soft, beautiful lips on his skin.

There are no more words after that.

Castiel cups the back of Dean's neck, pulling him forward and colliding their mouths together.  Dean grunts, surprised for a split second, but quick to respond, wrapping his arms around Castiel's waist to hug him in close, and tilting his head to fit their lips together properly.  Castiel moans immediately, and would be embarrassed were he cognizant of anything aside from the feeling of being held and kissed by Dean. 

The kiss turns deep and passionate, sending waves of heat through Castiel's body, spinning in his head, tingling in his toes, and thrumming in his lower-middle.  They're kissing like they would in bed, except they aren't in bed, they're at a hotel bar, but they should be in a bed.  Right now.

Castiel pulls away, and would've fallen over were he and Dean not holding so tightly onto one another.  "Dean - ah - can we, would you like to, um,"

"Your room?"

Castiel nods and Dean nods back, a bewildered sort of grin on his face that Castiel knows matches the one he's wearing.  They slowly unravel from each other so they can pay for their unfinished drinks and make their way to the elevator. 

Dean takes Castiel's hand and squeezes it, Castiel squeezing back in tandem with the warmth squeezing his heart.     

*

They kiss the entire way up to Cas' room.  Dean's back is pressed to the wall, his arms wrapped around broad shoulders.  Cas is kissing the hell out of him, holding him tight, arms around his waist.  It's like every fantasy Dean has ever had about the man, but this almost feels _too_ real.  He opens his eyelids just enough to see that it is in fact Castiel Novak kissing him and holding him and humming into his mouth.  Cas presses his hips into Dean's, the hard heat making him choke a gasp into their kiss.  Just when Dean's head starts to swim out of reality, the elevator dings loud as anything, actually making him jump.  Cas just chuckles, a big smile on his face as he looks from Dean's wet lips to his eyes, grabs Dean's hand and whispers, "Come on."

Dean nods, stumbling after him, his heart pounding too loudly in his ears for him to hear whether or not his own mouth made words.

Cas' room is pretty damn big, but that's about all Dean can discern of it before he's pulled into a bedroom and has hands yanking off his clothes.  Dean gets with the program after a second or two, unbuttoning Cas' shirt while he kicks off his own shoes.  They're panting heavily, kissing as much as they can while getting each other naked.  Dean can't take in everything that's actually happening until he lands on his back, bouncing on a soft bed.

He blinks, trying to muster up his normal bedroom machismo, but with Castiel Novak crawling over him looking positively predatory, it's impossible.  The man's body is insane; tan and toned.  He looks strong, almost to the point of intimidating were he not so damn cute.  Nevertheless, getting a look at Cas in full naked glory sends a thousand sparks through Dean's body.  There's absolutely no use in trying to hide the awe and excitement Dean knows he's wearing on his face, and fortunately he doesn't have time enough to be embarrassed about it before Cas is on top of him, wrapped around him and kissing moans into his mouth.

After Cas has taken all the breath from Dean’s lungs, he moves his kisses down his jaw, to his neck, then places sucking kisses across his chest.  Dean’s still mostly out of breath when Cas pauses, rises up to straddle Dean’s legs and look down upon his bare body.  Dean flushes under the attention, places shaking hands on Cas’ thighs and wonders just what is going on in the writer’s busy head.

"Dean."  Cas says, eyes meeting Dean’s with upmost seriousness, "I'd like to eat you out, but I'd also like to ride you.  Would that be weird?"

The corner of Dean's mouth quirks up, "You won't hear me complaining."

Cas' whole body perks up and he grins, looking more confident than Dean's seen him all day.  He shifts on his haunches just a little, looking down hungrily at everything below Dean's waist, and just as he starts to dive in he stops short.

"I'm sorry, Dean, I just realized I don't have lube.  I didn't anticipate having sex-"

"Fear not," Dean says, twisting to rummage through their clothes on the floor for his leather jacket to dig deep in one of the pockets. He tosses up a couple condoms and triumphantly holds up a handy dandy bottle of lube, "I always anticipate sex."

Cas snorts, blushing, "I'm sure you do." 

They adjust their position a bit, Cas settling between Dean’s bent legs, and Dean still on his back, but propped up appropriately with pillows.  Cas doesn’t wait a second more before he’s kissing down Dean’s inner thigh like he’s plotting a path to his cock.  Dean wriggles his hips, hard cock bouncing with just as much excitement as Dean’s feeling, and God bless America, Cas doesn’t disappoint. 

Cas goes to town, lips sucking hot and wet along with a tongue dancing in all the right moves.  Dean can process thoughts just enough to be surprised at Cas’ skill, considering the things he told Dean at the bar about having a dull personal life.  Dean was shocked then that someone so sweet, sexy, brilliant, and everything else could be single, but now it’s just absurd considering how good he is at doing that thing with the tongue – _that_ thing, that right there –

“Oh, fuck! Cas,” Dean groans, jumbled thoughts cut off.  For some reason, Cas takes his exclamation as a signal to pull off.  “Whoa, whoa, wha-where are you going?”

He hears a dark chuckle from Cas as he peers up at Dean for long enough to look devious, “Nowhere you won’t like.”

Before Dean can respond, Cas grips his legs and spreads them, kisses traveling further down before be starts to lick between his spread cheeks.  Dean hums, ‘cause damn it’s been a while since anyone’s done this, and boy if Cas isn’t just the best at everything.  Cas’ tongue laves at Dean’s hole, diving deep enough to have Dean shuddering.  His hand flies to grip his cock, and he whimpers, grabbing himself hard to keep from coming. 

Cas reads another one of Dean’s unintentional cues and leaves his hole to kiss around his inner thighs, to his hips, then on up his torso.  Dean feels like he’s about to break, held together only by the arms that wrap back around him, and the mouth that seals over his.  They kiss more, writhing and grinding onto the bed, everything feeling wet, hard and hot between them.  Dean thinks he might scream when Cas pulls away again to grab the lube and hand Dean a condom.  He’d nearly forgotten about this part of Cas’ plan.

Fortunately, Cas preps himself quickly with learned efficiency, a look of concentration on his face as he stretches his hole with lubed fingers.  Dean envies the hell out of those fingers, but takes Cas' lead and hurries to roll the condom on.  With a hand on his dick he watches Cas, unsure where the best place to look is, because every inch of the display is a deadly work of art.

Without thinking, he leans over and grabs Cas’ face, giving him a firm kiss he couldn’t seem to hold back.  Cas moans into it, and he can feel the man quiver under his touch before he rolls back over on top of Dean.  They pull apart and Cas is smiling adoringly, an expression that shoots straight to Dean’s pounding heart.

Cas gets up on all fours and begins to arrange himself before Dean grabs his arm to stop him.  Cas looks up, confused as Dean explains, “Hey, uh, I didn’t mean to hurry you.  If you aren’t ready, I mean.”

Biting his lip, Cas grins, “Oh, don’t worry, Dean.  I’m ready.”

Proving himself, Cas sinks onto Dean’s cock, eyes closed and moaning like it’s the most delicious moment of his life.  It’s definitely Dean’s; he’s never seen anything more beautiful.  Dean responds with a shuddering cry as reality suddenly hits him.

Castiel Novak is riding his dick.

Dean’s having sex with his _hero_ , and it’s all too quickly become something deeper than that.  Cas, to Dean, has always been an unreachable entity.  Something fabled, something more epic than any story the man has written.  And now, here they are, just two people who dig each other, sharing in pleasure as equals.

If Dean thought he could live with just being Cas Novak’s groupie, he was so very sadly mistaken.

Cas is bouncing away on his cock, a hand moving to brace himself on Dean’s chest.  Dean grabs it instantly, squeezed-shut eyes opening to see Cas giving him a sweet, shaky smile.  Dean smiles back, a wobbly hand reaching to take Cas’ cock and they both work each other off.

From there they seem to run on instinct, losing themselves to the building pleasure, creating a rhythm of slapping skin and panting breath.  Dean can feel himself getting way too close way too quickly, so instead he wills himself to focus on making Cas come.  One hand still working his cock, he moves the other to grip Cas' thigh, his elbow digging into the bed as he starts to thrust up as Cas shoves down.  His plan seems to be a good one, quickly turning Cas into a gasping, whining mess above him. 

Tossing his head back, a cry of Dean's name is cut off as Cas shudders, shocked by his own orgasm.  Dean pumps Cas' cock, slowing his thrusting down to a stop as streams of white hit his chest.  Cas, unsurprisingly, looks even more beautiful in his ruined mess of a post-coming haze.  Heavy eyelids shut, he runs a hand through his hair while circling his hips, letting Dean know he hasn't forgotten about the hard cock still buried inside him.

Returning to task, Cas starts working Dean’s cock inside of him in earnest as he breathes shuddery through his nose. He doesn’t have to work for long. Dean keens and arches, seeing fireworks as he comes, calling Cas’ name before he finishes. 

Dean’s still panting and feeling like rubber when Cas pulls off and starts to clean them up.  Dean moves to help, but Cas places a calming hand on his shoulder and lets him lie down.  Internally Dean decides that if he’s ever lucky enough to be with Cas again, he’s gonna make sure and do _all_ the work.

“Dean?” Cas says in a quiet, sweet voice, making Dean realize he’d nearly fallen asleep already.

He jerks awake, propping himself up on his elbows, “Oh, shit, sorry.  I’ll, uh-“

“No, no, Dean, I’d like for you to stay.  I just wanted to let you know I have to get up early tomorrow so I’m setting an alarm, but you can stay as late as you like in the morning.”

“Oh, okay.” Dean blushes, “I’ll get up with you.  Gotta get back to Charlie; tomorrow’s cosplay day.”

Cas’ eyebrows raise, clearly intrigued.  He leans in and gives Dean’s smiling face a soft kiss, then they both lay back down.  “I look forward to seeing that.”

Dean doesn’t resist being pulled into Cas’ arms at all, in fact he practically melts into them.  Whether this is the beginning or the end of whatever it is they have together, Dean’s gonna make the most of it.


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel and Dean bustle around each other in the morning, Dean throwing on last night’s clothes while Castiel gathers a fresh outfit and heads to the bathroom.  There is something delightfully domestic about it that makes Castiel pause before he heads into the shower to turn around and kiss Dean soundly.

He flushes when Dean drops his jacket to hold him, not letting go after their lips part. 

“What was that for?” He says with a dazed half-smile.

“I wanted to make sure and kiss you before you leave.  Are you sure you don’t want to shower with me?”

“Oh, I want to, believe me, but I’d keep you in there all day.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad,” Cas smiles coyly.  Actually, it sounds wonderful.  He would love to stay in the room naked with Dean all day.

“Cut that out,” Dean says with a laugh, then kisses him, “I’ll see you in a little while.  You’re gonna love my costume.”

With that, Dean puts his jacket on and leaves with a wink.  Castiel stares after him, then scurries to the door, straining to listen.  Fortunately it sounds like Dean is able to exit without running into either of his siblings.  It’s too early in the morning for their inevitable antagonizing.

Castiel is less fortunate.

He hops into the shower, whistling and smiling happily as he washes up, gets dressed, and combs his hair.  He’s still smiling when he leaves his bedroom, practically bouncing on his heels when he sees breakfast spread out on the coffee table. He gathers a plate full of food and sits on the couch, looking enormously pleased with life in general.

“Wow.  Someone got laid last night.”  Anna says sardonically from where she sits in the loveseat next to the coffee table, munching on a muffin. 

Balthazar is quick to chime in, flopping onto the couch and propping his heels up on Castiel’s lap, paying no mind to his brother’s plate.  “I think the jungle sounds coming from your bedroom would’ve clued us and everyone else on this floor in on that even if it weren’t written all over your face.  Well done, Cassie.”

“Thank you.” Castiel mumbles, mouth full and cheeks on fire.

Anna giggles and throws a half-eaten muffin at him.  “Happy for you, bro.”

Castiel smiles, still blushing, eyes focused on his food.  That could’ve gone much worse.

*

“There you are!” Charlie screams the moment Dean walks in and tosses a pillow at him.  “I’ve been texting you! Tell me _all_ about it; I demand deets!”

Dean clears his throat, “Is there food? I’m starving.”

“Dean!”

There is food of course, because Charlie is awesome, however unrelenting as her eyes bore into Dean until he finally spills the details about last night.  Or, at least, what he’s willing to divulge, which is the important stuff.

“Okay, fine!” Dean says, seeing Charlie look satisfied out of the corner of his eye.  He speaks while he stuffs his face, “Great kisser, great body, big dick, really, really good at everything.  Funny, dorky. You know,” he groans, “Perfect.”

The list he gives barely scratches the surface of Cas’ awesomeness, but nonetheless saying it aloud makes him sigh deeply.  They guy really is perfect, and the weekend is going by much too quickly.  He wants it to last forever.

Charlie squints at him skeptically, “Okay, so, why am I getting that this is bumming you out as opposed to making you sing ‘Happy Happy Joy Joy’ for the rest of eternity?  Am I missing something?  Did you not just go out with your number one crush?”

“No no, you’re right.” Dean grins, hoping it looks more genuine than it feels, “I totally did do that.”

“Okay then.  I’m high fiving you now.”

Dean laughs, they high five, and get ready for the day.  If nothing else, Dean is still very excited to show off his costume to Cas, and hell, everyone else at the con too.

*

The vision before Castiel’s eyes makes him believe for half a second that he might still be in bed, dreaming.  Dean approaches their table on the con floor dressed up as Michael, the character from Castiel’s Fallen Angel series.  The costume is painstakingly accurate, emphasis on the pain, because looking at him makes Castiel ache all over.

“Hi there.” Dean says, tipping the brim of his cowboy hat.

Anna, sitting where she was the day before next to Castiel, laughs, “You guys look perfect!”

The plural noun brings Castiel’s attention to Dean’s friend Charlie, who is dressed as another character from Fallen Angel named Celeste.  Their costumes are very impressive.  It’s clear they’ve worked incredibly hard on them and it’s a shame Castiel’s mouth has gone too dry to compliment them appropriately.

“So, what do you think?” Dean asks Castiel expectantly with spread arms, displaying himself.

For some reason, the question brings Castiel to his feet.  His eyes travel all across Dean’s perfect form bringing to life a character Castiel has poured his entire heart into over the years writing the series.  He finds now, that his heart this very moment is about to burst.  And his jeans are starting to feel entirely too tight.

“I think,” Castiel finally croaks, “You and I must find a private room immediately.”

From his side of the row of tables, Castiel begins to stride purposefully to the end of them, meeting up with Dean on the other side.  Dean, smart though he is, awaits him, his hand extended at the ready for Castiel to drag him off.

They find a room within a room inside some employees only area that seems private enough for Castiel’s liking.  Immediately, he pins Dean up to wall, nearly knocking off the cowboy hat, and kisses him fiercely.  Dean responds to the kiss in-kind, wrapping his arms around Castiel, the long, brown Michael coat he wears flapping up against their sides.  Castiel presses harder up against him.

He starts to travel down Dean’s body, first with his hands, appreciating this fantasy-come-to-life moment with one of his own characters.  He’d be lying if he said he’d never thought about Michael this way; hell, he’s basically written the character to be Castiel’s ideal man.  However, when he pulls away from Dean’s lips just slightly to look at him, he realizes there’s not a man more ideal on earth than Dean Winchester.

Flushing from head to toe, he takes his lips on the journey down Dean’s body next.  First down his neck, to his collarbone, then down along the buttons of his shirt. 

Dean stops him before he gets too low, pulling Castiel back upright.  “Whoa, there.”

“What?” Castiel gasps.

“You got to do all the work last night,” Dean flips them around, pinning Castiel to the wall instead, “My turn.”

Dean puts the cowboy hat on Castiel’s head, winks, then sinks to his knees.  Castiel quivers at the sight, bucking forward as Dean runs warm palms up his thighs and squeezes.  Dean kisses and nuzzles all around the target area, making a dizzied Castiel groan and place a hand on Dean’s head for balance.

With a dark chuckle, Dean gives one last heated look before getting to work on Castiel’s belt and fly.  Castiel is blindingly hard, nearly shouting when Dean palms at the bulge in his boxers.  The man is purposefully driving him mad and he can’t do a thing to stop him.

Blessedly, Dean lowers Castiel’s boxers all the way down past his ass, Castiel gasping at the feeling of his freed cock coupled with the hungry expression Dean’s wearing.  Gently teasing with the tips of his fingers, Dean points Castiel’s cock towards his lips, stroking it lightly.

“Dammit, Dean,” Castiel growls, head flinging back into the wall, tilting the cowboy hat forward.

With the hat covering Castiel’s eyes, he misses Dean’s first press of lips to the head of his cock.  He violently shakes the hat off, whimpering when he peers down, watches, and _feels_ Dean’s tongue slide all the way down his length and back up.  That devil tongue circles the crown, practically beckons the head between Dean’s pink lips, then Dean sucks him down ‘til his mouth meets the hand holding the base.

Dean starts moving enthusiastically after that, even removing the hand to take Castiel deeper in his mouth.  The sight, the feel, it has Castiel moaning and sighing and blubbering nonsense that Dean seems to take as further encouragement.  Dean’s hands grip Castiel’s thighs, slide over his ass, then move to his hips, working them to thrust just a little.

Castiel’s fingers curl tightly into the lapel of Dean’s coat, holding on for dear life, his other hand gripping and releasing Dean’s hair.  Castiel knows he’s being loud and he doesn’t care.  Dean has that effect on him, that reality-altering, inhibition-lowering effect that has him feeling nothing but pleasure and happiness ‘til he can’t contain it anymore.

His orgasm’s knocked out of him with a jerk of his hip.  He grunts, spilling into Dean’s mouth, Dean dutifully working every last drop out of him.  The moment he pulls off, a wobbly Castiel manages to pull him to his feet and slam their mouths together in a needy kiss.  Dean parts for air, panting into Castiel’s still parted lips until Dean’s own hips begin to jerk forward.  He’s working a hand on his own cock between them, stroking quick and harsh until he comes, head falling to Castiel’s shoulder when he finishes.

When Dean lifts his head back up, he’s preening, and Castiel can’t help but smile back.

“You are incredible, Dean.” Castiel says, awestruck.  “I’m so glad we’ve met.”

Something indiscernible flashes across Dean’s face as Castiel says, “But I’m afraid I must get back to my table.”

Dean recovers almost quickly enough for Castiel to have missed the strange expression, smirking before giving him a long kiss.  “’Course.  I’ll escort you.”

Castiel, complete with mussed up hair and a glow to his face, walks shamelessly through the con floor arm-in-arm with a gorgeous man dressed as one of his most popular characters.  He blushes when he notices a few people taking pictures of them as they return to Castiel’s table, so he turns away from the crowd, busying himself for a few seconds by tilting Dean’s hat in the proper angle.  Dean just gives him one last smile, a quick nod and a pat on the back before walking back around to the other side of the tables.

He’s still buzzing from post-public-sex, but there’s a teeny tiny pit growing in his stomach that he won’t be able to ignore forever.

*

After parting ways with Cas, Dean and Charlie spend the day traversing the whole convention space, stopping frequently so attendees can take pictures of them.  Dean’s a little surprised by how much attention they’re getting.  Fallen Angel is a popular series, and is a major title in the company it’s published by, but it’s definitely not of Marvel or DC level notoriety.  Most likely it’s Castiel’s presence at the con that’s making people take more notice of he and Charlie’s costumes. 

Dean’s heart thrums; if only these other fans knew what Castiel’s presence has meant for Dean. 

They end their trek in the dealer’s room, perusing venders they’ve already been to before, making a couple purchases here and there.  Dean is sure to buy a few gifts for Sam.  He really wishes his little brother were here.

He decides to shoot him a text telling him as much, to which Sam replies:

“ _Wish I was too, man! Though it sounds like you’re having a lot of fun without me.  How was last night? (please spare the graphic details).”_

Dean reads the text, quirking a small smile, though a tinge of sadness spikes his chest.  _“Last night was great.  Should see me & Charlie’s costumes today”_

_“Okay, you don’t have to spare THAT many details.  Come on, man, what was a date with Castiel Novak like?”_

Taking the mature adult route, Dean elects to ignore Sam’s question.  He asks a fellow con goer to take a picture of he and Charlie, and he sends it to Sam.  He gets a reply from Sam saying they look awesome, and fortunately he doesn’t press on the subject of Cas any further.

He doesn’t have to.  The subject comes up via other parties, naturally.

“Where the frak is your boyfriend anyway?”  Charlie asks as she flips through a long box of bronze age X-Men comics.  “Wasn’t he supposed to meet us here by now?”

Dean checks his watch absently, “Yeah, but you know.  Dude’s busy.”

“Bah!  Doing what?  He can’t spare a minute to explore the con with us?” 

As if on cue, the blonde v-neck wearing dude Dean’s seen hanging around Cas and Anna’s booth trots up to them, looking like he has a million things going on in his head. 

“Hello.  You are Dean, yes?”

Dean nods, confused. 

“Yes, good, well, Cassie sent me over to apologize to you for running late.  He’s caught up in interviews that seem to be running a touch long.”

“Oh.  Uh, that’s okay.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Charlie giving Dean a worried look.

“Wonderful.  Now then, if you’ll excuse me, there is at least one girl from Arrow here that needs my number.”

With that, the guy’s gone, Dean none-the-wiser as to who the hell he is or how he knows Cas.  Not that he cares, really.  His mood’s completely shot now; the reality of who Cas is and what Cas’ life is all about firmly sinking in.

Charlie places a gentle hand on his arm, “Come on, Dean, let’s go check out the table top gaming.”

Dean nods numbly and follows her around, mind elsewhere while she enjoys herself. 

After a couple hours, Blondie McV-Neck finds them again and leads them outside to where Anna and Cas await them.  It’s incredibly difficult for Dean to stay in his dark cloud of gloom when he’s sees Cas’ big, sweet, dimply smile directed right at him.  Cas jogs up to them, giving Dean a hug and kiss.

“Dean - and Charlie, right?” Charlie nods in response, still looking a little star-struck by the writer, “I’m so sorry I didn’t meet up with you earlier.  I wasn’t expecting to be swamped for so long with interviews.  Balthazar went a little overboard setting them up.”

“Balthazar?  You mean Johnny Rotten over there?” Dean gestures with a tilt of his head towards v-neck, who’s chatting away on his phone. 

Anna laughs at the nickname.  “Yes.  He’s our half-brother, slash manager, slash assistant, slash tag-a-long with no real job.”

Dean snorts, directing his gaze back to the man whose arms are still hooked around his neck.  Cas is just staring away at him with sparkling eyes, happy lines crinkling their corners.  Dean flushes from the inside out, instantly hypnotized.  How dare Cas be so sweet and gorgeous while Dean’s trying to stew?

Cas seems to be none the wiser to Dean’s feelings, leaning in to kiss him soundly.  Dean sucks a deep breath in through his nose, squeezing Cas in close with arms wrapped around his waist.  Giggles and loud fake coughs threaten to ruin the moment, but Dean ain’t havin’ that.  He takes his cowboy hat off and covers their faces from the scrutiny of the two redheads on the left. 

The click of the camera on Charlie’s phone is what finally kills it.

“Hey!” Dean says, lowering the hat while Cas laughs.

“Anyway!” Anna shouts, “We were thinking we could all have dinner together tonight.  Do you guys know any good places to eat around here?”

“A place with burgers?”  Cas asks hopefully.

“Well, if you need someone with infinite knowledge of good burger joints, Dean’s your man.”  Charlie says, giving Dean a solid pat on the shoulder.

Cas just smirks, eyes firmly on Dean’s when he slickly replies, “That he is.”

Between flustered stutters, Dean suggests a place to go.  They set up plans, then Dean and Charlie head to their hotel room to change into normal people clothes. 

*

Their dinner together is absolutely wonderful.  Not just the food, which is fantastic, but the atmosphere as well.  Castiel’s heart is warmed by how easily Dean clicks with his siblings.  Anna and Balthazar can be very difficult, but Dean isn’t deterred by them in the least.  Besides which, Castiel knows the more shit they give Dean, the more they like him. 

Charlie is very sweet too, and funny.  Castiel can definitely see how the two of them became friends.  Inwardly, Castiel is relieved to find that things between she and Dean have always been platonic, and that she is in fact a lesbian, because he is sure he would not have been able to help feeling slightly jealous that the two of them are so close.

The only trouble with the night is that Dean seems a bit closed off.  He does have an arm around the back of Castiel’s chair, and the winks and flirty comments are still abound, but occasionally Castiel will catch that flash of sadness from earlier appear on Dean’s face.  

“Is there something wrong, Dean?” Castiel leans towards him and murmurs when his siblings and Charlie are caught up in a conversation. 

“Hm? No, ‘course not.”  Dean smiles easily, warmly, like always. 

Castiel’s not sure he believes him, but Dean’s look still gives him butterflies.  He leans in to give him a soft kiss.

“Will you stay with me tonight?”

“Hell yeah.  It’s our last night after all.”  Dean says, giving Castiel another, longer kiss. 

The words pierce Castiel’s chest.  That hadn’t even occurred to him.  Does Dean mean their last night ever?  Or just their last night together at the con?  Worry brims, but it’s difficult to stay on that train of thought once Dean slips his tongue past Castiel’s lips and slides a hand up his thigh, squeezing. 

They keep it up in Castiel’s hotel bedroom, holding each other and kissing as opposed to diving straight into bed.  At first Castiel was dying to rip Dean’s clothes off and ravage him, but with the way Dean’s lips are moving so languidly, the way their tongues are slow-dancing, he’s been subdued to follow the boy’s lead. 

The buildup is terribly romantic in Castiel’s moon-lit room as they slowly remove each other’s clothing, touching and kissing as they go.  It has Castiel feeling dizzy, drunk on Dean just like their previous night together, only this time less clumsy and urgent. 

They finally fall into bed together, still kissing deeply and slowly.  Castiel moans away as they roll around, arms and legs tangled together.  It takes him a minute to realize just how quiet Dean is being, and how Castiel is the one making all the noise, quite unlike the night before. The slight worry he's felt all day starts to pinch the back of his mind, but is abated yet again by a skillful Dean, who rolls them over to be on top.  He grabs one of Castiel's legs to hook it purposefully around his waist, then gives Castiel a heated look before sealing their mouths together and getting serious.

Dean stays so quiet even as they both thrust hands between each other, pulling and stroking.  Castiel makes up for the lack of noise, because every way Dean touches and kisses him makes him sing.  Not even Dean's strange mood can sour what they make together, nothing could.  Castiel knows this for certain as he comes right after watching Dean do the same.  Nothing could ruin something so beautiful.

Which is why he knows this is absolutely not their last night together.  If that is in fact what has Dean so solemn, they will figure it out in the morning.  He hopes.

For now, they hold each other, kissing sweetly until they fall asleep. 

*

Dean dreads the rest of the day, scorns all Sundays forever for going by so quickly. 

Having already checked out of their hotel room, he and Charlie decide to spend as much time with Cas and his family as possible, helping them pack away things and whatnot.  Cas finally gets the chance to see the rest of the con, walking around the entire space with an arm hooked around Dean's.  Any time someone eyes the two of them walking together, his chest burns.

Why can't this last forever?

Cas seemed odd earlier in the morning when they got up together, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.  The guy probably wanted to cut things off then, but maybe he felt bad about it or something.  Or maybe – just friggin’ maybe – he’s dreading it as much as Dean is. 

They both pushed the inevitable aside, choosing instead to shower together – an opportunity Dean took to commit as much of that gorgeous body to memory as he could – and enjoy what time they have left.  At least, that’s what’s goin’ on from where Dean’s standing. 

So Dean keeps his feelings buried, a thing he's well practiced at, and tries to make their last day together as fun as possible. 

It seems to work for Cas, who's having a grand ol' time joking around with Charlie, eyeing different things throughout the con with adorable curiosity, and giving Dean frequent sweet kisses on the cheek.  Frankly, it's impossible for Dean not to indulge in all of it, letting himself think that Cas Novak is his boyfriend and this could be their life together.

Unfortunately, every time he catches the time, or the announcer over the PA system says that different areas of the con are closing, doom sinks his heart. 

He has to end this today.  There's no way it could work between them.  Long-distance shit never works.  Cas is too important, has too much shit going on.  He's too... _everything_ to be with Dean. 

Finally, evening arrives marking the end of the convention.  They stand in the parking lot, and Dean can tell that Charlie is still enamored with everything, still excited to have made friends with her idols.  Dean wishes like hell he felt the same way, like it could have stayed that simple for him. 

Anna and Balthazar get in their car, and Charlie gives Castiel a hug and a cheerful wave before heading over to Dean's car.  Cas approaches Dean, somewhat timid, a bit like how he was when he gave Dean that art piece on Friday. 

He takes Dean's hands, "So."

"So."  Dean echoes, sucking in a deep breath.

"This was a wonderful weekend.  One I'll never forget," Cas says, eyes big and blue and sincere, looking deep into Dean's, "I am so happy to have met you."

"Yeah," Dean gulps, and yep, this all sounds pretty final.  "Same here."

Cas smiles, closes his eyes and tilts his head up to give Dean a long kiss.  Dean presses into it, breathing in deep through his nose.  This is it.

When they part, Dean keeps his eyes closed as he chokes out, "So, uh, I told you how to find our website, if you ever wanna email or something."

He peels his eyes open and sees that Cas' face has totally fallen.  He looks utterly distraught, confused, insulted - a billion things that Cas should never feel.  He stares at Dean, no doubt waiting for him to say something less stupid, but when Dean offers nothing more, he drops their hands.

"Oh.  Right.  Okay then."  Cas says, clearing his throat then schooling his face.  He tilts his chin up, a detached look on his face.  "Well, good luck to you Dean."

"Yeah, thanks - uh - you too."

They share one last hard look through glossy eyes, and Dean watches Cas walk away, into his car.  He doesn't look back, or wave, or say any kind of goodbye.  It's just as well.  Who would say bye to their groupie?

Nevertheless, Dean watches them drive off, purses his lips and swallows down his sobs.  He spins on his heel, turning away from the entire weekend and escapes into the comfort of his car, taking a silent journey home.


	3. Chapter 3

“Anna, we cannot have Jimmy suddenly look exactly like me.  Especially if we plan on making more convention appearances.”

Castiel rubs his forehead in frustration as he hovers over his sister while she works on their latest issue of Fallen Angel.  He’s been visiting her much more frequently lately.  She waves his concerns aside.

“We can, we will, and when you and Dean get married the fans will love that we did.”

“Or they’ll think it’s completely obnoxious-“ Castiel bristles mid-sentence, halting this conversation before it goes any further in this direction, “And Dean and I are _not_ getting married.  He made it perfectly clear what he wanted from-“

Anna halts his halting, “No he didn’t!  And neither did you.  God, you’re both being such _men_ about this.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means you’re both being idiotic.”  She answers, turning in her chair to face Castiel with a fierce look she’s threatened him with since they were children.  Usually when Castiel was being particularly difficult.  “Now either find Dean’s number and call him, or leave me alone.  I’m working.”

Castiel leaves dramatically, going all the way back to the dark sanctuary of his apartment to brood.  And perhaps spend some time with his face buried in his cat’s fur.

It's no lie that he's been miserable in the weeks since the convention where he met Dean.  The man was perfect, and Castiel was so certain that they were perfect for each other, and he feels a fool for letting it end the way it did.  He should feel a fool for getting so wrapped up in a man he spent a mere weekend with, but he doesn't.  He doesn't care that they spent so little time together, it was enough for Castiel to know they should be together right now. 

He knows that attitude Dean gave off after their last kiss wasn't sincere.  He knows in his gut Dean didn't want to end things there, that he just wasn't brave enough to say it.  But then, neither was Castiel. 

And he remains, much to his sister's (and even Balthazar's) chagrin, not brave enough to contact Dean now.  He can't imagine finding his number and calling him up.  Whether Dean meant to shut things down and demean what they had or not, it still hurt, and perhaps it's more pride than anything else that keeps Castiel from being the one to reach out. 

However, now, as he groans and nuzzles his unsympathetic cat, he thinks pride has long since mattered.  He may not have the testicular fortitude to call Dean up, but there is one thing Castiel can do. 

He calls up his sister, thanks her for being a brilliant artist with brilliant ideas, and tells her there is one more revision to the next issue of Fallen Angel that they must add.

*

“Oh my God.”  Charlie starts.

“Holy shit!”  Sam finishes.

Dean groans from where he sits on his couch, trying to view some mindless television. “What?”

“Dude, have you read the new Fallen Angel?”

“No.” Dean grunts, rolling his eyes.  Since the con, he’s stopped reading it completely.  He hasn’t gone so far as to take the series off his pull list, but if Charlie and Sam keep this conversation up he will seriously consider it.

“Well, you’re reading this one.” Charlie says matter-of-factly, plopping the book onto Dean’s lap.

Stubbornly, he slides it off to rest on the empty space next to him. “No thanks.”

“ _Dean,_ ” His friend and brother both chide, then Sam continues to say, “If you never read another issue again, read this one.  Please, man.  You won’t regret it.”

Sighing, Dean finally looks away from the TV and balks.  Sam and Charlie are standing over him staring at him with the widest, most pleading puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen them wear. 

“Geez, fine, okay, okay.” He grumbles, looking away before he can see their reactions. 

He rolls his eyes and glares condescendingly at the book beside him, then swipes it back into his lap.  He settles in and opens the first page, feeling more than a little bit uncomfortable.  Sam and Charlie are both still staring at him, Charlie with her hands covering her mouth.

He looks to both of them, “Can’t a guy read a comic book in peace around here?  Fuck off!”

They both mumble apologies and incredibly inelegantly turn away, Charlie tapping her feet and Sam with his arms crossed, clearing his throat while he taps his chin.  Dean makes his annoyance well known as he groans loudly yet again, dramatically storming off to the privacy of his bedroom.

Shutting the door, he lets out a deep sigh before sitting down on the bed.  Before even looking at the comic again, he gets himself as comfortable as possible, slightly regretting not pouring himself a glass of whiskey first.  For Sam and Charlie to make such a big to-do about this particular issue must mean something big happens in it.

But what?

Fallen Angel has been going on for so long, they’ve done everything.  What’s left to do that would shock the avid reader?  Not that Dean’s complaining, even though he’s been avoiding the series lately, he still loves it, and _loves_ the characters to pieces.  With another deep breath, he settles in and opens the book.

It starts out very reminiscent of the first issue, showing desolate scenery panels with the main character, Jimmy, narrating.  Eventually, just like the first issue, Jimmy’s silhouette can be seen wandering the empty plains, the sunset tones warming the pages and lending to the mood.

Jimmy’s narration is melancholy.  He speaks about how even though he’s found many of his fallen brothers and sisters, and all the good they’ve achieved together on Earth throughout the course of his travels, he still feels incomplete.  He still feels alone. 

Dean smiles to himself and nods, thinking yeah dude, you need to get laid.  Jimmy’s always been a loner, but it is high time the guy found a wife or whatever.  Hell, Dean would marry the shit out of the guy.

That’s about the time Dean turns the page to see maybe what Charlie and Sam were freaking out about.  There’s a big panel of a close-up of Jimmy’s face, and Dean notices he looks even hotter than usual right before he notices he friggin’ looks _exactly_ like Castiel.

Jimmy’s always had the dark hair and blue eyes, but there’s some new swoops and points happening along his face that makes the resemblance to his creator uncanny.  Dean squirms, unsure how to feel, so he reads on.

In the middle of Jimmy’s soliloquy, he’s ambushed by a group of angry Risen.  They attack him ferociously, and Jimmy attacks right back using his signature blade.  Dean flushes because there’s something extra sexy about seeing him fight while looking so damn much like Castiel.

The Risen are demons that emerged from Hell and became human, just like the Fallen were angels from Heaven who are human now as well.  At this point in the story, the Risen know Jimmy well, and hate the guy’s guts, thus the beating their serving him with now.  Jimmy can hold his own against them normally, but he’s largely outnumbered in this fight.

In a flurry of gore and flying punches, Jimmy is overwhelmed by his opponents, knocked to the ground.  Two enemies stand above him, but just as they’re about to attack, two bullets fly through the backs of their heads, and Dean knows exactly what’s coming next.

He flips to a full page of Michael, the bounty hunting, Risen slaying cowboy, holding two smoking pistols and wearing his signature cocky smirk.

_“Hey sweetheart,”_ Michael says, “ _These guys botherin’ you?”_

“So fuckin’ cool,” Dean mumbles embarrassingly out loud to his own comic book.

Before doing anything else, Michael takes Jimmy’s hand to lift him up.  Guy’s a true southern gent.  Once he’s on his feet, they make quick work of the rest of the Risen.  This is some of Dean’s favorite shit right here; he loves when the two of them fight together.  They’ve always made an awesome team.

At this point in the book, Dean still isn’t sure why Sam and Charlie were so insistent that he read it.  It’s a great issue so far, but no new territory yet, aside from Jimmy’s slightly changed looks.  Though, Dean think that might be just him having some leftover longing for the writer.  He must just be seeing things.

Refocusing on the book, he turns the page to a new scene taking place inside a motel room. Michael’s cleaning up his wounds while Jimmy stands next to him, already bandaged up.  Naturally, Michael made sure to take care of him first. 

The mood of the scene makes Dean shift on the bed.  Scenes when Michael and Jimmy are alone are always like this, where they stand a little too close, where they stare too long.  They’re heady and intense.  This time, however, seems different.

For one thing, Michael’s usually gone by now.  They share their little moment, then part ways.  But now, with the way their conversation’s going, the way they’re touching each other, the fact that there’s a bed right behind them in the room they’re in… 

Yeah, Dean knows exactly where this is going, and he kinda can’t believe it.

He finds himself sucking in a deep breath and feels his heart rate pick up just a bit.  Gently, he pinches the bottom right corner of the right page and turns it.

He practically gasps, greeted face first with a two-page spread of Michael and Jimmy passionately making out, with overlaying panels interspersed throughout showing them in various states of undress and intimacy.  Anna’s a true friggin’ professional, drawing a character that looks so much like her brother in the throes of bow-chicka-wow-wow with a dude who looks, well, kind of a lot like Dean.

Yes, Dean’s noticed the similar hairstyle, the green eyes, and this new addition of freckles to Michael’s face.  It really looks like he and Cas are gettin’ it on in this motel room and Dean kinda wants to frame it and hang it above his bed.

When he turns the page, he's fully anticipating the moment where they part ways.  Dean has always figured Michael for the love ‘em and leave ‘em type, considering how he’s always breezed in and out of Jimmy’s life before.  Instead, he’s surprised to find a few pages of pillow talk between the two of them.

_“You don’t have to be alone anymore.”_ Michael says.

Then Jimmy takes his hand, “ _Neither do you.”_

The final pages of the book are much like how the book began, only now there are two silhouettes walking down the open road together.  It’s both the ending of an arc, and the beginning of a new one that Dean can’t wait to see. 

Heat rushes through his chest as he leans his head back and lets his eyes fall shut.  Now he realizes what his brother and Charlie were talking about, except he doesn’t think they predicted how much it would overwhelm him. 

He stares at the ceiling, letting out another deep breath.  Damn, he misses Cas.  How could he have screwed up so big?  How could he have let Cas go when, if this issue is anything to go by, Cas actually wants to be with him?  None of it matters anyway.  What is Dean supposed to do about it? Write him a fan letter?

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, the idea reminding him that he hasn’t looked at the inside back cover yet, which usually has the fan letters.  Sometimes they’re fun to read; Cas, of course, has great responses to them.

However, when he looks down, there are no letters. The last page is simply solid black with some white writing in the center that says:

_This issue is dedicated to Dean.  I miss him.*_

_-Cas_

Dean’s eyes bulge.  He follows the asterisk to the bottom of the page.  It denotes:

_*Dean is not dead or anything, but he is a man I really wish would call me._

Then Cas leaves his number.  His phone number, printed out on a comic book for the whole world to see. 

Dean springs off the bed and grabs his phone, punching in the number with the full intention to call Cas a crazy man for giving out his phone number like that, but then he realizes he’s calling Cas and they’re finally about to talk after a million weeks, and oh shit.  What is he supposed to say?

“Hello?” That smoky voice greets him, and Dean feels every feeling at once. 

“Uh, hey, Cas.”

*

Castiel zeroes in on him the instant he steps outside the airport.  He sees Dean Winchester, leaning against what looks to be an incredible classic car, waiting to pick him up.  When Dean spots him, Castiel barely has the chance to fully appreciate the sight of him before they’re barreling towards each other.

They collide, grabbing hold of each other’s arms and laughing breathlessly.

“Dean,” Castiel starts, he has to get this out right away, “I’m so sorry for how things ended between us.  I suppose I was just – scared.”

“Me too.  For both things.  I was a dick.  I’m sorry, Cas.”

Castiel shakes his head, “It’s alright.  I-I want you, Dean.  I want to be with you.  I want to, ah,” Castiel searches for the words he’d been thinking over and over during the plane ride to Kansas.  He looks up at Dean, determined, “I want to spend more than just a weekend with you.  I’d like to take you out on dates, and be in a relationship with you.”

Dean flutters those long eyelashes, those beautiful lips Castiel has longed for break out into a brilliant smile. 

“Okay,” He replies easily, warming Castiel’s heart. “But you gotta meet my brother first.”

“I would love to.”

“And one more thing, Cas.”

Castiel gathers closer into Dean’s arms.  “Yes?”

“Why the hell aren’t you kissing me?”

Castiel immediately corrects that mistake, and soon, the two of them correct all the others they’ve made.

* * *

 

_Epilogue_

 “Congratulations, Dean Winchester.”  Castiel says after rolling off of his husband, both of them blissfully catching their breath.

“Thank you, Castiel Winchester.” Dean leans in for one more kiss, then the two arrange their bodies in a now almost habitual cuddle position.  Castiel’s arm thrown over Dean’s chest, Dean’s wrapped around Castiel’s shoulders.  Dean peers down at him.  “I mean it, Cas.  Thanks.  For everything.  Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Dean and Charlie just released the final issue of their very first series published by the same company that prints Castiel’s books.  Their sale numbers have been soaring, and rightfully so, the series is wonderful.  Castiel could not be prouder of them.

“Dean, all I did was point you in the right direction.  It was your imagination, your talent, that got you where you are today.”

Dean smiles softly at him for a moment, then he smirks and raises his eyebrows.  Castiel knows exactly what’s coming next.

“You know what else got me where I am, right here, today?”

“What?”

“This.” Dean rolls them over, pining Castiel down and kissing him thoroughly.

Castiel hums in agreement, thinking back to that first time Dean placed a sweet kiss on his cheek, then thinks to their wedding, where Castiel had never been kissed so vigorously in front of so many people. 

He flushes and smiles, happier in his life now than he has ever been, especially when he sees his name in print on his books as Castiel Winchester.


End file.
